


Massage

by HazelnutShippingCo



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Massage, Soul-Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-06-05 04:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6688345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelnutShippingCo/pseuds/HazelnutShippingCo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just something short and sweet I had written for AngbangFluffyFebruary.<br/>Includes a bit of exploration into the effects of soul-bonding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Massage

Melkor released a long sigh as Mairon’s hands moved smoothly across the expanse of his bare back.  The King of the World lay on his stomach, stripped to the waist, while his lover sat straddled over him.  The side of Melkor’s face pressed softly into one of the several pillows that dressed their bed.  Mairon’s weight was light upon him, his presence soothing.  

It was always Mairon who insisted upon massaging him; Melkor had never once had to ask.  It seemed the Maia had a gift for sensing when stresses began to take their toll on his Master’s physical form.  And Mairon’s hands were as skilled at these ministrations as they were at any task he put them too.  So when his Maia had met him at their bedroom door that evening, a familiar look in his bright eyes as he lay a questioning hand upon Melkor, the Lord of Angband had not refused him.  His body had grown increasingly tense in recent days.  Why deny himself relief and pleasure when it was so willingly, and beautifully, offered?  He had given himself over into Mairon’s hands.

Mairon’s touch was exceedingly gentle at first, long fingers tracing lightly over his Master’s skin, adoring, worshipful.  The bedroom was dimly lit; only a few candles, flickering quietly, cast their glow upon the walls and ceiling.  Melkor inhaled deeply and found by the bittersweet scent of the air, incense smoldering nearby.  He closed his eyes.  Mairon’s palms pressed lightly in circles over his shoulders, then downward, to the small of his back, then returning again, patterned, methodical, mesmerizing. With each pass, it deepened.  The Maia pressed into tightened muscles, gentle force loosening them with patience and persistence.

The physical sensations were augmented by the emotions he could feel radiating from Mairon through the bond they shared.  In times like these, of quiet closeness and intimacy, he could sense his beloved’s emotions with unusual clarity.  Mairon’s care and lingering concern filtered softly into Melkor’s mind, and with them, an encompassing sense of love and the desire for Melkor’s well-being.  Melkor’s own soul glowed with the warmth of it, returning in resonance, love for love.

Mairon’s hands paused for a moment as he leaned down and kissed Melkor’s cheek.  It was simple and sweet, and Melkor pressed one hand against the bed to lift himself and turn to kiss his lover properly.  But Mairon’s hands held him firmly down.

“I’m not done yet, my Lord,” Mairon hummed softly into Melkor’s ear, his voice low and resonant and increasing Melkor’s desire to exchange their positions.  But for the time being, he would let Mairon have his way. Melkor relaxed again beneath his Maia.

Mairon placed another kiss upon Melkor’s jaw, while with his thumbs, he pressed into the knots between Melkor’s shoulder blades.  Melkor gasped, tensing at the pressure before Mairon’s thumbs began to knead, easing the muscles back into smoothness.  The pattern continued down Melkor’s back, with Mairon’s lips following where his hands had been, distracting as his thumbs pressed hard into new knots elsewhere. The Maia’s hair had slipped over his shoulders and fell silkily, trailing over Melkor’s skin.  Melkor reveled in the melded pain and pleasure. Mairon’s touch was heat and pressure; his soul licked against Melkor’s like a flame.  As the ache of weary muscles fled, the ache of desire rose to fill its place.

Melkor moaned as Mairon dug the heel of one hand into his lower back.  The Maia shifted his position, rolling his hips forward just slightly, to exert more direct force.  Melkor’s breath came hard and fast.  Finally, the tensed muscle eased.  Mairon leaned back again.  His hands traced gently once more over each of the muscles of Melkor’s back, searching for any knots he may have missed.  With an effort, Melkor held himself still.  At last, Mairon’s hands stopped their motion.

For an instant, neither moved.  Then, with practiced ease, Melkor arose, and turning, flipped Mairon down onto the bed beneath him.  His Maia stared up at him from among the pillows, bright eyes aglow with satisfaction at the reaction he had incited.  Melkor placed a kiss on Mairon’s soft lips, gently, in thanks and appreciation.  The glow of his soul burned still warmer as Mairon kissed him in return.  And in the fullness of their bond at that moment, Melkor could barely discern where one’s desire ended and the other’s began.  

Kisses deepened and hands wandered, stripping away the remainder of clothes.  Skin against skin, their bodies drew together, seeking ever further closeness, as bonded souls mirrored and echoed, amplifying love and a longing to be one again.  The longing they fulfilled, as the candles burned low, until all completeness had been satisfied.


End file.
